What’s that got to do with the price of tomatoes?

Recently, I wrote about the myth of scarcity that drives our lives so profoundly that we don’t even think about the myth itself, just the feeling that we’ll never have enough.  I said the alternative is abundance, which I define as having both a satisfactory standard of living and a satisfactory quality of life.  Thinking about the notion led me to the following question:

What is the difference between a store-bought tomato and one grown in my neighbor’s garden and given to me?

For one thing, I’ve observed the care, time, and effort my neighbor put into growing the fruit.  I’ve watched my neighbor weed the soil, stake the plant, and water it when needed.  Along the way, I’ve gained knowledge of the growing process and an appreciation for the complexity of life that nourishes the plant, pollinates the flowers, and ripens the fruit.  I have no idea where the store-bought tomato originated or how it was cultivated.

When my neighbor offered me the fruit, it fortified and expanded our relationship.  When someone gives us something, it fosters community rather than separation, and the fruit expands our relationship to nature.  It manifests an anti-scarcity idea of “when there’s more for me, there’s more for you.” It creates an ongoing tie between us that lasts long after the tomato is eaten.  Maybe I know the clerk behind the cash register, but most likely, they are a stranger to me.  They see the tomato as one of hundreds of items that will pass through their hands during the shift, working for a grocer owned by a corporation whose name they may or may not know.

I feel a sense of awe and gratitude for being honored with a gift, the result of my neighbor’s time and labor.  This gratitude and connectedness are the basis of community, and I honor their generosity.  It also makes me want to “pay it forward” in some way, turning the intention from an exchange to a circulation of sorts (and so on, and so on, and…).  Meanwhile, at the grocery store, “Your total is…”

More broadly, this simple act has radical consequences for the economy – it has reduced consumer demand and reduced GDP by cutting into economic growth.  This act is a small but real example of degrowth economic activity.     

The economy attempts to measure the totality of everything humans produce and do for one another (with caveats that, frankly, don’t make sense).  Let’s call this the standard of living.  It is separate from the gift of the tomato, the relationship, and the communal foundation established by the example above.  Let’s call this the quality of life.  The standard of living is finite and can be quantified, whereas the latter is qualitative and infinite.  After all, what is the cap on gratitude?  What is the limit on sharing?

This example demonstrates a few attributes of a healthy shrinking economy that provides a component of abundance and is a potential alternative to the economy of scarcity.  People spend less time producing products and services that support their standard of living and more time pursuing activities that enhance their quality of life, sharing their efforts with others in the community.  It’s not either/or, it’s both/and.

Fintech founders, if you’re looking for a problem to solve, think about and create solutions that provide ways for our gifts to circulate.

The Tragedy of Scarcity — And Why It Doesn’t Have to Be This Way

Have you ever wondered why, despite living in one of the most advanced and resource-rich eras in history, so many people still feel financially insecure?  Why does competition seem to outweigh collaboration?  Or why things that used to be free now come with a price tag?

At the heart of these experiences is a powerful narrative: the myth of scarcity.

Scarcity: The Story We’ve Inherited
Modern economics often rests on two core assumptions:
·     Resources are limited.
·     People act to maximize their self-interest.

This framework has helped shape policies, systems, and behaviors—but what if these assumptions aren’t universal truths?  What if they’re cultural stories we’ve internalized?

The belief in scarcity is deeply embedded in our history.  We’ve divided the world into good and bad, natural and manmade, wild and domestic.  And through this lens, society has framed its mission as one of domination—waging “wars” on poverty, drugs, crime, inflation, and more.

But this battle-based ideology comes at a cost: if there’s not enough to go around, we’re conditioned to fight for what we can get.  “It’s a dog-eat-dog world.” Self-interest is glorified.  Community becomes optional.  And social status becomes a proxy for security.

How Scarcity Shapes Our Systems
We can see the scarcity mindset reflected in national priorities.  In 2023, the U.S. spent 62% of its discretionary budget on militarized programs: war, policing, incarceration, and deportation.
(source: Institute for Policy Studies).

It’s also embedded in our economy:
·     75% of U.S. households can’t afford a median-priced new home.
·     20% of all food produced is wasted.
·     Products are increasingly designed to break or become obsolete.

Scarcity, in many cases, isn’t just a condition—it’s engineered.  Bottled water, for example, only exists once something abundant is made exclusive.  Economic growth has become entangled with creating artificial scarcity.

Living With Not-Enoughness
Even in affluent societies, scarcity drives anxiety.  We make decisions—not just financial ones—based on what we can afford.  We equate wealth with freedom.  Subscription models have turned everyday conveniences into recurring expenses.  Even the wealthy aren’t immune: when everything is tied to money, no amount feels like enough.

And if money is scarce, then everything else feels scarce too—including time, health, joy, and connection.

What’s the Alternative?
Abundance.

Imagine a future where our systems aren’t built around managing scarcity, but around nurturing enoughness.  What if the next breakthrough in fintech wasn’t about faster payments or higher yields—but about replacing money and its scorekeeping entirely?

What are your thoughts?
Is the scarcity mindset holding us back?  What would a system rooted in abundance look like to you?